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Femme Infernale

She will not stick with betrayal
Leaving him bereft and broke
A specter of his former self
His money gone, his heart a stone

No, she insists on devastation
Desiccated husks lie in her wake
No lover has retained his health,
His sanity or soul

She locks eyes tightly onto his
Sends his essence straight to hell
Abandoned with his booze and blues
And a "So long, Ace, I'm not your muse."

Photo: Eva Green  
Written by crowfly
Published
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